"Now the Abbe, who was listening behind the door, seeing our embarrassment, and thinking we had won the game, thought the time had come to interpose, and showed himself. My uncle was so stupefied at that apparition, that at first he remained motionless; but then he opened his mouth as if he meant to swallow up the priest, and shouted to him in a strong, deep, furious voice: 'What are you doing here?' "The Abbe, who was used to difficult situations came further in the room, murmuring: 'I have come in your sister's name, Monsieur le Marquis; she has sent me.... She would be so happy, Monsieur....' "But the Marquis was not listening. Raising one hand, he pointed to the door with a proud and tragic gesture, and he said angrily and gasping for breath: 'Leave this room ... go out ... robber of souls.... Go out from here, you violator of consciences.... Go out from here, you picklock of dying men's doors!' "The Abbe went backwards, and I also went to the door, beating a retreat with the clergyman; and the two little women who were avenged got up, leaving their omelette only half eaten, and went and stood on either side of my uncle's armchair, putting their hands on his arms to calm him, and to protect him against the criminal enterprises of the Family and of Religion. "The Abbe and I rejoined my mother in the kitchen, and Melani again offered us chairs, 'I knew quite well that it would not go of its own accord; we must try some other means, otherwise he will escape us.' And they began deliberating afresh, my mother being of one opinion and the Abbe of another, while I held a third. "We had been discussing the matter in a low voice for half an hour, perhaps, when a great noise of furniture being moved and of cries uttered by my uncle, more vehement and terrible even, than the former had been, made us all four jump up. "Through the doors and walls we could hear him shouting: 'Go out ... out ... rascals, ... humbugs, get out scoundrels ... get out ... get out!...' "Melani rushed in, but came back immediately to call me to help her, and I hastened in. Opposite to my uncle who was terribly excited by anger, almost standing up and vociferating, two men, one behind the other, seemed to be waiting till he should be dead with rage. "By his long, ridiculous coat, his long English shoes, by his manners of a tutor out of a situation, by his high collar, white necktie and straight hair, by his humble face of a priest, I immediately recognized the first as a Protestant minister.